Middle School Of Rock
by Marshall Bond
Summary: The sequal! What happens a few years after the movie ends? The school of rock kids are now in middle school! Read & Review! New chapter!
1. School Of Rock days are gone

Dewey Finn sat behind his desk. He stared across the room. There, sat a poster of the School Of Rock together on stage. He sighed, and leaned back in the chair.

"Okay. Who knows who Jimmy Hendrix is?" Dewey asked, a bored expression on his face. He knew that these kids would have no chance at knowing this.

"Wasn't he some rock guy?" asked Carl, a seven year old, grasping his guitar firmly.

"Yes, Carl. A very good rock guy too. An awesome rocker, infact! He's famous!" Dewey said, excitement building in his voice. He had an idea. "Y'all got to learn about him! Today's homework is to find out more about Hendrix. Alright? When you come back next week, you better be Hendrix experts! Go!" Dewey escorted the children out the door. Ned came out of _his_ classroom, and escorted the younger children in his class out the door.

"Hey, Dewey. We've successfully created a school of rock!" Ned laughed, watching the children leave.

"Yeah. And now it _really_ is a school of rock. You know what I mean?" Dewey replied. "This school focuses on rock and roll's history, and also teaches youngsters how to play rock music! It's like subbing all over again. We're making these kids into stars!"

"Have you been in touch with the gang lately? Where are they off to?" Ned asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"They're in junior high, rocking the teachers' socks off with their awesome talent!" Dewey said. "You wanna' grab a bite to eat?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's go somewhere! How about Subway?" Ned questioned, starting to get his coat.

"Sounds good. And maybe I'll check up on the band, and see what they're doing." Dewey went back into the classroom and grabbed his coat.

"I'll take a Bacon Turkey Sub, and a drink and some chips over there," Dewey ordered, standing at the counter.

"That's what the combo meal is, sir. You get all of that stuff. How about you, sir?" the lady at the counter explained, eyeing Ned. She took his order.

"Combo number five, please," Ned ordered.

"Combo number five? That's a song," Dewey laughed.

"No, actually, it was Mambo Number Five. That's a song," Ned corrected. He knew his friend was feeling a little hazy.

"Okay," said that lady at the counter. She typed on the cash register. Ned and Dewey watched their sandwiches being made.

"Oh! On wheat bread!" Dewey added, before the guy behind the lady at the counter could even grab a loaf of bread. The man nodded.

"What do you think is missing in our school, Dewey?" Ned asked, squinting his eyes with the thought.

Dewey mimicked that same face. "I don't know, Ned. But I know what you mean. I had so much fun subbing for that class, and making them into a band. It was awesome! But ever since they left, it just hasn't been the same. These kids are talented, but they just don't rock like the class I subbed for."

"I know, I know. We've lost it, Dewey. We need some really unique kids like the School Of Rock had. I mean, they were the total opposite of rockers. That's why it was fun! These students, they don't care. They are already familiar with rock, and they don't even want to listen," Ned sighed. He grabbed his finished sandwich and brought it to the table along with Dewey.

"I know, Neddy. It's like we're not doing it right, right? Before, it was so fun! Now, these kids aren't cool like Zack, or Freddy, or Lawrence, or Tomika. They're just not the same," Dewey agreed, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"I don't know, Dewey. It'll come. These kids are only in first or second grade! Their parents are paying us money to do this! I thought that's what you wanted!" Ned sighed again.

"That's not it, my friend. Even though we didn't win the Battle Of The Bands, I still felt like I was a star again. It's not about the money. It's about the rock!" Dewey shouted playfully, with his mouth full of sandwich.

"Keep it down, okay? Sooner or later, we'll have a bigger school with more teachers, more kids, and more rock," Ned said in a soft tone, noticing that a lady was staring at them.

"I don't want more teachers. I don't want a bigger school. When I taught that class, it was a small class. That's what makes it fun. There's one group to focus on. One group to make into a band! It's no fun with a bunch of six year olds running around with no care!" Dewey complained, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Your right. We should start getting more pre-teen kids. Ones who understand what you tell them. Even better, ones who already play instruments. Kids who play classical music. That way, we can turn their worlds around and show them new culture. Show them new music. Then we'll feel like we're doing something," Ned explained, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"That's a good idea! Ned, we can put up flyers asking for kids over eight who play intruments already, right? And then, we can start a new class on Tuesday's and Thursdays for that age group!" Dewey exclaimed, standing up and throwing his wrapper away in the trash.

"Sounds good to me, Dewey," Ned nodded in acceptance. He finished his sandwich and threw everything away.

"Are you going to eat those chips?" Dewey asked, pointing at Ned's bag of chips.

"No. I'm not that hungry. I had some food during class," Ned replied, handing Dewey the bag.

"Let's go!" Dewey shouted, heading out the door. The lady stared at Dewey as he exited the building. Then she stared at Ned.

"He's a little wound up from teaching," Ned said to the lady, and walked out the door after Dewey.

"Stop! Stop! This is the place!" Dewey shouted, frantically grabbing at the steering wheel from Ned and pulling over at a screeching hault.

"Dewey! Dewey! Cut it out!" Ned screamed back at him, pulling his hand off the steering wheel.

"Sorry, man. I'm just psyched about checking in on the gang," Dewey sighed, feeling blessed for having survived such a dangerous hault.

"Dewey, just don't be upset if they don't remember you," Ned warned, opening the car door and getting out.

"Oh, they'll remember me!" Dewey assured, getting out on his side of the car and slamming the door shut. They headed in the front door of the private school for pre-teens, hoping to find the kids that had once been the School Of Rock.

The bell rang and out poured tons of teenagers, young and old. They were running out from every room. The hall was soon crowded, and Dewey and Ned felt out of place.

"Hey freak, aren't you supposed to be teaching?" asked a tall, thin teenage boy. He was staring at Ned.

"No. Actually, it's Dewey who wanted to…" Ned began, being interrupted by Dewey himself.

"Why don't you get the hell to the next class? He's not here to teach! I brought him here so I can look for some old classmates. Have you heard of Freddy Jones?" Dewey had to yell to be heard over the crowd.

"Yeah, I know him. He's a freak! His locker is down there!" The teenage boy yelled, pointing down the hall. Dewey leaned to the side to see past the crowd of people. There enough was a blond kid who looked as if he could be Freddy standing by his locker.

"Ned, stay here!" Dewey called to Ned, running through the crowd towards the kid who could possibly be Freddy Jones, the drummer in the band.

"But Dewey…" Ned began, but it was too late. A group of girls waved at Ned, laughing to themselves. Ned waved back uncomfortably.

"Freddy?" Dewey called, walking up to the boy at his locker.

"Yeah? What do you want?" Freddy asked, his head in his locker, putting away some books. Freddy turned around and gasped in shock. "Mr. S.! Hey, man!"

"Freddy! What's up?" Dewey asked, giving Freddy a high-five.

"What've you been up to?" Freddy asked, closing his locker and starting to walk down the hall, which was now clearing out.

"I've continued to teach rock to kids, along with my friend Ned. Here, I'll show you the real Mr. S.," Dewey said, walking alongside Freddy.

"What?" Freddy asked, confused.

"And then, I had to go get stitches on my knee and hands, all because of a measly little kid on a tricycle!" Ned was saying as Dewey and Freddy walked up. Ned had been talking to a group of gothic teenagers who looked pretty interested, which was rare for Ned.

"Freddy, this is Mr. S. He's my bud, and he's teaching with me. His name's Ned," Dewey said.

"Hey, Ned," Freddy said, an odd expression on his face. He shook Ned's hand.

"I was just telling these girls how I got stitches when I was about their age," Ned explained, smiling and nodding as if he had accomplished something.

Freddy laughed nervously. He didn't really know this guy, and he was a bit confused why Dewey Finn was at his school.

"Why'd you come here?" Freddy asked Ned and Dewey. He scratched his head and watched the gothic girls walked off.

"Well, we were just feeling that our school is not as fun as teaching you guys was," Dewey said. Then he squinted and looked that sentence over again. "Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. I heard you," Freddy said. "I missed those days. I had friends back then. Now I'm just an outcast. I've lost my cool. I miss being in a rock band!" Freddy admitted, showing obvious expressions of un-happiness.

"That was awesome wasn't it? We rocked, didn't we?" Dewey asked, showing that he missed those days too.

"I wasn't there to see you guys practice, but I saw you play. You really rocked!" Ned said, smiling.

"I don't think I'll ever have as much fun as I did in the band. Do you think we could do that again?" Freddy asked hopefully. He really looked like he was hating junior high.

"Well, that's the thing. I was thinking that I'd do that if anything." Dewey thought about how hard it was to get in the Battle Of The Bands. Then he thought about bringing back the band for a reunion. But then he realized that in order to do that, he'd have to give up teaching at his school and get the band members out of _their_ school, and it would get too confusing.

"Hello? Dewey?" Freddy called, waving his hands in Dewey's face to get him out of the daze he was in.

"Yes, Freddy?" Dewey replied, coming back to earth. "I was in the zone, Freddy. In order to be a rocker _and_ get things straight, you have to get in the zone. And guess what? You just got me out of the zone!"

Freddy didn't look too pleased. He backed up as if he were a puppy who had been scowled at by an abusive owner. "I'm sorry, man," Freddy mumbled, taking a seat on a bench in back of him. Dewey looked at Ned, and Ned looked at Dewey. Dewey had an idea.

"Alright! I'm sorry. I'm just wound up from teaching stiffs all day," Dewey apologized. He watched as Freddy's look changed. "How about this…Are you free on Saturday? I'm teaching a class on Saturday and I'd like the band to reunite their and show them how rock is supposed to be played!"

"Alright! Sounds cool. I'll be their," Freddy said, standing up from his seat and walking down the hall. "See you, Dewey!" he called back.

"Ned," Dewey began, "I think we got ourselves a little gig on Saturday! Now to find the rest of the band!" And at that, Ned and Dewey went down the hall in the other direction.


	2. Reuniting the School

Dewey was pacing through the halls of the middle school. Ned was following him like a shark hunting for little fish to eat. Dewey heard many calling voices of children from various classes as he passed by the doors. So far he thought it was impossible to find Zack being that classes were in session, and he might have to check every class before he finally found him. He kept that thought in his head until he came to the lounge and saw some teenagers sitting around on the couches.

"Hey! Mr. S.!" called a familiar voice. It was familiar, yet lower than Dewey remembered it. Dewey turned around to see Zack lying next to a blond girl on the couch.

"Zack Attack!" Dewey called back at him. Then he took a look at the girl. She also looked familiar.

"Oh my god!" the girl screamed. "Mr. S.! Why are you here?"

"Marta?" Dewey questioned. That's who he thought it was. She nodded, and put her arm around Zack's shoulder. Zack smiled.

"Hey, guys," Ned whispered, being careful not to disturb any classes.

"Why are you guys out here?" Dewey asked, making a gesture with his fingers. He took a look at the other teenagers. They looked like punks. The bad kind of punk. The kind of punk that would get wasted and kill someone. He didn't like to see what used to be the mellow Zack hanging around with these kids.

"We got kicked out of class. We're bad," Marta said, stroking Zack's head. She looked at the other teenagers and laughed rebelliously. Dewey didn't like to see the tension between Zack and Marta, being that they were no more than 14 years of age. He was shocked to see Zack lying near her in the first place. It didn't seem like Zack.

"We're punks," Zack said, a grin on his face. He didn't seem like he had been punished. He seemed happy.

Dewey toned down his voice a bit and whispered, "Who are they?"

"Our friends," said Zack. One of the other teenagers said something to him and he laughed, but Dewey didn't hear what he was saying. Then Dewey remembered what he was here to say.

"Would you guys be up to a little gig?" Dewey asked with hope and a rocking gleam in his eyes.

"Sure. Where at?" Zack asked, sitting upright. Marta didn't look like she cared anymore.

"You two could come by my school. You know where I teach? It's also where I live," Dewey began. Both Zack and Marta both said yes. They had been to that school too. The last time they were there was about 3 years ago. "Anyway, I'm teaching a class full of six year olds, and I need you guys to come and rock their socks off!" Dewey was very enthusiastic.

"Sounds awesome. Do you still have those old instruments?" Zack asked, almost playing air guitar, until some of the teenagers started laughing.

"Yeah! I'm getting the band together for a one night show! It'll be at my school in my apartment, and we'll set up a stage and have you guys play. That is if you're up to it," Dewey said enthusiastically.

Without hesitation, Zack yelled, "I'm in!" and shook Dewey's hand. Dewey was glad to have Zack Attack back in the band to play his awesome rock music. Now he just had to convince Marta.

"How about you, Marta? We need backup singers."

"What are we singing?" Marta asked, sitting upright next to Zack.

"Well, I have yet to think of that, my friend. But whatever it is, it's going to rock. I know you'll like this. It'll be good for you, too. Everybody must rock. Rock is the world. Without rock, this earth would be a flat pancake. Rock is what makes the world go round. And you, Marta, rock. We need you to come back and blow away everyone. Okay? This band wouldn't be whole without you."

Marta started shaking her head, and then she started smiling. "Okay. I'll be there," she said.

The rest of that day went well. Lawrence said yes. Tomika said yes. Alicia said yes. Katie said yes. Almost everyone else except Summer said yes. Dewey couldn't find Summer. He paced up and down the halls again. Ned decided to catch up later and take a rest in the lounge. At that time, the bell rang, and Dewey prepared himself for the crowd of noisy teens that were about to come stampeding from the class doors and through the halls. He had to find Summer. If she found out about the gig and wasn't there to hear about it first, she'd be mad. Dewey had her image in his head from the last time he saw her. She was short, smiley, and had very dark hair. Their were a lot of really slutty looking girls walking through the hallways, and Dewey knew right away that none of them were Summer. It was only until the hallways were clear that he saw a girl that reminded him of Summer Hathaway. She was leaning against her locker and talking to one of the blond girls from class. Dewey came walking up, and tried to get her attention.

"Summer Hathaway?" Dewey said quietly. The girl turned around. She looked shocked. She looked speechless. She looked nothing like Summer at all.

"You really think I look like her?" the girl asked. Dewey didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"From the back. Your hair is the same color," Dewey explained. "Do you know where Summer is?"

The girl simply pointed to a poster on the wall. It read SUMMER HATHAWAY, STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT. And above the letters was a picture of an older looking Summer.

"Where would I find her?" Dewey asked. The poster was nice and all, but it didn't solve his problem.

"It's 7th period. She's in a meeting. Check in Ms. Kim's room. It's down the hall," the blond girl answered. She pointed in the direction of the room.


	3. Freddy's Day

Dewey Finn was driving to get some junk from the store, when he saw a blonde boy running down the bike path. Dewey was not surprised. There was that school over there in the corner of his eye. The same school he had gone in to recruit the band again. Confused, Dewey pulled the car over to the side of the road tom take a closer look. He looked familiar. He looked around the age of fourteen. He looked just like Freddy Jones!

"Freddy!" Dewey yelled, jumping out of the car door and running over to the bike path. Freddy stopped before he got to Dewey.

"What are you doing?" Freddy asked, his face red from running in the cool air. He took a deep breath.

"What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing?" Dewey asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm running away from school. I'm busted," Freddy said while panting. He was sort of hunched over, trying to regain his breath.

"NO!" Dewey snapped. He grabbed Freddy by the shoulders and stood him up straight. "No, no, no! You don't run away from school."

"Sorry." Freddy gave a long pause, staring at Dewey.

"Come here," Dewey said, a softer tone in his voice. Freddy hesitantly walked over to Dewey. "Okay. What happened."

"Well, I was in the principal's office and…" Freddy began nervously.

"Eh! Start from the top!" Dewey commented. He made a rewinding sign with his fingers. So Freddy did so. He told Dewey the whole story, which resulted in this:

"And if you want to be the teacher's pet, baby you just better forget it!" Dewey sang, driving in the car through the McDonalds Drive-Thru.

"Rock got no reason! Rock got no rhyme!" Freddy sang along, tapping the drumbeat on the dashboard. He had a rebellious grin on his face, and had rolled up the sleeves of his school uniform.

"You better get me to school on time!" Dewey and Freddy sang in unison. Dewey gave Freddy one of his evil rock faces.

"So you wanted what, sir?" said the lady at the Drive-Thru. Dewey and Freddy stopped singing and turned out the driver's window to see the lady sitting there impatiently. Dewey and Freddy became silent.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't see you there," Dewey stated. He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

"What do you want to order, sir," the lady repeated, restlessly. Dewey Finn opened his mouth.

"I'd like two Double Cheeseburgers, two Extra-Large Fries, two Milkshakes, one McGriddle, a side order of salad, and a Diet Coke," Dewey recited. He took a breath after he was done. Freddy gave him a look. He was wondering how Dewey could eat so much.

"I needed Diet Coke. I'm going on a diet," Dewey explained to Freddy, picking up what Freddy's expression indicated.

"Will that be all, sir?" the lady asked, a bit shocked.

"No. Actually, I was thinking of doubling my order," Dewey said sarcastically. "Yes, that's about it."

"Thank you, and pull up to the other window," the Drive-Thru lady said, leaning back inside of the McDonalds window. The instant that Dewey left the premises of the first window, Freddy and Dewey started singing again. They sang all the way until they reached the next window, and then they stopped.

"Here you go," said the lady, and gave Dewey the food. Dewey payed her, and then drove off, letting all the change drop onto the street. The lady looked madly out the window and down at the ground, where all of Dewey's change sat.

"See, Freddy?" Dewey said, "This is the rock star's meal."

"I thought rock stars ate gourmet crap!" Freddy blurted. Dewey stopped as he was un-wrapping the burger.

"McDonalds _is_ gourmet! We got fish, meat, bacon, meat, cheese, tomato, pickle, soda, buns, fries, milkshake…" Dewey rambled on, picking through the bag. "That's like, all the food in the pyramid." Freddy ended the conversation there.

"Dewey, are we really going to do a rock show for your students?" Freddy asked. He really wanted to go back to rocking and drumming and all that.

"You bet! We'll set up a stage in my apartment slash school, and then pass little flyers around the town saying, 'Come See The Middle School Of Rock!'" Dewey shouted happily, making one of his awkward rock finger poses. The name he had just said flashed through his head. Middle School Of Rock.

"Awesome, man! I'll tell Zack to write a new song or something!" Freddy jumped with enthusiasm. Dewey put out a stopping hand.

"No need, Spazoid Lloyd!"

"I'm Freddy!" Freddy exclaimed.

"I know! I have a cell phone right here! I'll call up the school and tell Zack myself," Dewey explained, turning on his cell phone and lifting it to his ear. He called the school. Freddy laughed in the passenger's seat. Dewey waited patiently while the secretary picked up the phone.

"Oh, hello!" Dewey said in a deep voice. "I'm Zack's dad. Can I speak to Zack?"

"Which Zack? There are four people in this school by the name of Zack. And…what is your name, sir?" the lady said over the phone. Dewey didn't know Zack's dad's name. He blinked and squinted his eyes.

"My name is Jack Mooneyham, Zack's father," Dewey announced into the phone in his low voice. Freddy laughed hard at Dewey's voice.

"Okay, we'll call him down. Now that's Mooneyham, right?" Dewey responded.

"Hello? Is this Zack?" Dewey asked into the phone after he had heard some rustling through the phone.

"Yeah. Who's this?" Zack sounded younger on the phone than in person.

"It's Dewey. I talked to you about the gig that I wanted to have at my school slash apartment recently. You up for that?"

"Sure, man. Do you want me to write another song?" Zack asked. Dewey nodded, and then realized that Zack can't possibly hear a nod over the phone, so he spoke his response.

"That would be rockin'! You've got an un-official homework assignment. Write a totally kick-ass song and bring it to me. You got that?" Dewey said, smiling. Then he figured that a smile also isn't something Zack could hear, so he let out a small demonic chuckle.

"Alright. But I can't guarantee it'll be as good as the first one," Zack replied softly, almost as if he were sad that he was going to be in the band again.

"Now Zack, the secretary thinks that I'm your father, so don't say my name or anything. Just hang up, and walk back to class. But you've got an assignment to do." Zack hung up the phone without a word more.

"We got it, Spazoid Lloyd!" Dewey yelled to Freddy, giving him the long hand shake thing. Freddy was feeling better already. But now, he had to get back to school and face an even deeper punishment than the one given to him in the office. He wondered if the punishment would affect his parents enough that they would not allow him to attend the show. His happiness faded that moment.

"Dewey, I don't think I can go to the gig," Freddy uttered. His happy enthusiastic rock attitude was now a sad, sad, algae mood.

"Why not dude?" Dewey asked, almost as sad as Freddy himself.

"I'm busted," Freddy replied.


End file.
